


elle me dit (she tells me)

by orphan_account



Series: appelle-moi par ton nom (call me by your name) [14]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Protective Siblings, Sad Timothée Chalamet, Worry, sister knows best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28718136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Timmy gets a call from his older sister.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: appelle-moi par ton nom (call me by your name) [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087184
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	elle me dit (she tells me)

On Tuesday during his lunch break, Timothée was sitting alone in his trailer, drinking a bottle of Coke made with real sugar, when he got a notification on his phone. 

He yawned and looked down at it idly, expecting to see a text from Armie along the lines of _Hey babe! I hope you’re having a good day. What do you want for dinner tonight?_

Instead, his eyes widened when he saw that it was a text from his sister. _Es-tu occupé? Je veux te parler. Peux-tu parler maintenant?_

_No, I’m not busy. I’m just grabbing lunch. Sort of. You can call me._

Within seconds, his phone vibrated. Timothée swiped right and held the phone to his ear. “Hey Pauline. How’s it going? It’s been a while.”

“Hi, Timothée. It’s going. It’s cold and rainy here, but what else can you expect in winter? It hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked.”

“Three weeks and counting.” Timothée smiled darkly and took a sip of Coke to steady himself. Going three weeks without speaking to each other was a normal thing for most siblings, especially when they were grown and out living their lives. 

What was abnormal in this case was that Timothée had tried to call Pauline five times, and sent as many texts, only to never receive a reply. The long, rambling texts and voicemails he’d left her had seemingly vanished into the ether.

Pauline scoffed, but all Timothée could hear was the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He took a deep breath and tried to loosen his hold on the phone. It took all of his strength not to slam it down on the table or otherwise damage or destroy it. He had to remind himself that it was a Christmas gift from his dad, and that even though it was under warranty, he didn’t think he could handle the emotional fallout.

“Maybe I’m the only one who’s counting, then. So, it’s cold and rainy in Paris. It’s cold and overcast here in Boston.” He braced himself when he heard her laugh bitterly.

“I could sit here and let you prattle on about the weather, Tim, but I think we both know why I called. You’re with him, aren’t you?”

“Nope. No, I’m not with Armie right now. I told you, I’m eating lunch. Well, if you want to get technical, I’m drinking a Coke out of a glass bottle with a straw. It’s made with real sugar, not that high fructose corn syrup crap. It’s the real deal, I guess.”

Pauline took a deep breath. “You know what I meant, Timothée. Are you shacking up with him now, or what? I can’t get anything out of Mom. Her lips are sealed.”

Timothée ran a hand through his hair and gulped nervously. “I don’t have to tell you all the details of my private life, Pauline. I’m surprised and a little offended that you felt the need to even speculate on it.”

“Aha, I knew it! You know, in one interview he gave, Armie described you to a T. You’re an open book, Tim. Your emotions and all the inner workings of your mind play out as plain as day on your face.”

“That’s...I mean, he did say that, but you can’t even see my face right now.”

“I don’t have to see it. I can imagine it clearly enough. You’re furrowing your eyebrows and your upper lip is curled back in a sort of angry snarl. You always make that face when you’ve been found out.”

“ _Merde_.” Timothée laughed and wrapped his arms around his stomach, as if he was literally trying to hold himself together. He felt like his guts would seep out and spill all over the floor if he let go. “You make it sound like I’ve committed some crime. ‘Found out.’ Jeez, Pauline, what are you gonna do now? Call _The New York Post?_ ”

Pauline sniffed. She took a long pause, and Timothée could picture her taking a deep drag of her Galoise. She exhaled, and Timothée took a deep breath to compose himself. His mind was a roaring void, and there was a tremor in his right hand that wouldn’t stop.

“ _Ça va. Tout va bien, frérot._ So you went and fell in love with one of your co-stars. So the man has a wife and two children...”

“Pauline, that’s not fair. You know it’s not. Their marriage was basically over for months before Armie and I got together.”

“...and I guess you think that your intense little ‘bromance’ with him over the years had nothing to do with it. Tim, the looks you gave each other in interviews and at press junkets, and the things you’ve said about each other, all made it pretty obvious that what you had was more than just a little ‘chemistry’ or ‘movie magic.’ Do you really think that if someone were to spill the beans to the press about your little fling, it would be me? That hurts, Tim."

“I know! And I’m sorry, but goddammit, Pauline. Don’t use that word. ‘Fling.’ You make it sound like we’re just hooking up while we’re on vacation, or something. This is different.”

“Oh?” Timothée could hear the smirk in her tone. He felt heat in his eyes and closed them before he started crying. He sniffled miserably, and Pauline sighed in resignation.

“Look, Timothée, for what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. I know I said some pretty harsh things about Armie last month when you OD’d, but I was scared shitless then and really thought I was going to lose you. I didn’t exactly relish the idea of having to watch my baby brother be put in the ground. Not when it seemed like you were finally getting over your ¼ life crisis. The idea of sitting shiva for a week with Bubbe and Uncle Rodman makes me want to reach for a bottle of bourbon.”

She paused and Timothée laughed until tears seeped between his eyelids, and until a long string of snot dangled from his nose. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“Like I said, I’m on your side. I love you, Timothée.” Pauline sniffled and her voice shook with emotion. “And he clearly means the world to you, so I guess I’ll just have to learn to love Armie, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on how my last drabble _viens loins à l'eau (come away to the water)_ kind of blew up, in the interest of clarity, I want to lay out a general timeline of this series...:
> 
> •On December 18, the last night of Hanukkah, Armie paid a surprise visit to Timmy in NYC.  
> •During that visit, Timmy had a coke overdose and was hospitalized. Armie basically declared his love then and there and promised to come back after spending Christmas with his family in the Cayman Islands.  
> •On New Year's Eve, Timmy got insecure after calling and not hearing back from Armie for a few days. He got drunk and reckless, and ended up back in the hospital. Armie came back.  
> •Once he got out of the hospital, Timmy moved into a tiny, cramped studio apartment that Armie is renting from a college student in Boston, while Timmy is filming for a sci-fi comedy called _Don't Look Up_.
> 
> Translations:  
>  _Es-tu occupé? Je veux te parler. Peux-tu parler maintenant?_ \-----> _Are you busy? I want to talk to you. Can you talk now?_
> 
> “ _Merde_.” -----> "Shit."
> 
>  _Ça va. Tout va bien, frérot._ \----->"It's alright. Everything's alright, little brother."
> 
>  _Ça fait mal._ \-----> "That hurts."
> 
> Thanks a bunch to all my readers. Seriously, guys, to have gone from a random drabble I just wrote one day when I was bored to have written a series of 13+ fics in less than a month is amazing to me. Thanks again! ✌️


End file.
